The Coin

Harry watched Hermione’s hurried exit from the restaurant as Ron shifted his plate to the other side of the table and took the chair that she had just vacated.

“Wonder what’s up with her? She was acting odd all through lunch, don‘t you think?” Ron inquired, munching on a chip.

“She probably just had to get back to work. You know Hermione, she never likes to be late for anything,” Harry replied, taking the last bite of his sandwich, but not meeting Ron’s eyes.

“Come to think of it, you’re acting a bit odd, too. You didn’t even speak to Hermione the entire time she was here.” Ron searched his best friend’s face, a quizzical look lighting his blue eyes.

“Sure I did,” Harry protested lamely. “You were just too caught up in telling us about Lissa that you didn’t notice.” Harry looked down at his plate, breaking his few remaining chips into smaller pieces.

“No,” Ron thought out loud. “I wasn’t that caught up. There’s something going on between the two of you. In fact, it’s almost like you were avoiding her.” Inspiration struck Ron and his eyes lit up. “Hey, is that why you told me to sit down beside you when I came in…because you didn’t want Hermione to choose that seat?”

“Ron, don’t be a git.”

Grinning, he kidded, “Well, from some of the looks we were getting sitting next to each other, I thought I was going to have to tell people that we weren’t that kind of friends.”

Harry scowled, but Ron didn’t miss the flicker of misery that shot through his eyes.

“What’s wrong, mate?” Ron asked in concern. “You and Hermione have a row about something last night?”

Looking into the worried eyes of his best friend, Harry decided to tell Ron what had happened the previous night. Well, he certainly wouldn’t give him all the details, but a general sketch of what had transpired might help him to understand it a little better himself. After the disastrous way he had behaved at lunch, Harry felt like he needed to unburden himself to someone.

“I kissed Hermione last night,” he said without preamble.

Ron was very sorry he had taken his last sip of coffee when it came out of his nose instead of going down his throat. “What?!” he sputtered, wiping coffee off his face and shirt with his linen napkin.

“You heard me right,” Harry confirmed. “I kissed Hermione,” he admitted miserably.

Recovering somewhat, Ron asked, grinning, “Tongues and everything?”

Harry’s blush revealed more than he wanted. Ron whooped with laughter, then quieted when several other patrons turned to glare at him.

Still smiling, but trying to contain his mirth since Harry didn‘t seem to share it, Ron said, “Okay, start at the beginning and don’t leave out the any of the good stuff.”

He glared at Ron. Shifting in his seat nervously, he began his narrative. “We had a nice dinner. Talked about you actually.”

“About what a wonderful chap I am?” Ron grinned.

“No, Hermione told me about how you tired to seduce her and your subsequent breakup.”

“Oh, that.” Ron had the grace to look embarrassed.

“After dinner,” Harry continued, “we had to make a mad dash back to her flat to escape that freak windstorm.”

“Weird, wasn’t it?” Ron agreed.

“Yeah, when we got back to her flat, both of us thought our mad dash was pretty funny. One minute, we were laughing, the next she was in my arms, and I was kissing her.”

“And the problem with that would be…”

Harry glared across the table at Ron once again. “The problem with that would be that she’s my best friend, and I shouldn’t have kissed her.”

“Why not?” he asked. “I did.”

“Yeah, and look how that turned out,” Harry pointed out.

Grinning sheepishly, Ron admitted, “Hermione and I just didn’t suit, Harry. We were too different. Luckily she was smart enough to realize that before we made a big mistake that we could never fix. Now that I’ve met Lissa, I’ve realized that. I know what it feels like to be in love. Everything’s different when you truly love someone. Hermione and I didn‘t have that. But who’s to say the two of you couldn’t?”

Shaking his head, Harry protested, “No, Ron. Don’t you think if we were going to have those kinds of feelings, it would have happened before now?”

“Not necessarily. Let me ask you a question, Harry, and answer me as honestly as you can.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” Harry replied cautiously.

“What did it feel like to kiss Hermione?”

“Honestly?”

Ron nodded.

There was no way on Earth he was going to tell Ron what it had honestly felt like to kiss Hermione… Trelawney would make an accurate prediction first. Kissing Hermione had been like nothing he had ever felt before. He had been swept away on a feeling of desire so intense, it had taken every ounce of fortitude he had not to pick her up, carry her to bed and make passionate love to her all night long.

“It was nice,” Harry replied.

“Just nice, Harry?” asked Ron skeptically. “Well, did it turn you on?”

“Ron, we’re talking about Hermione!” he exclaimed, but the pink flush to his cheeks belied his words.

“Yeah, I know. And I wanted to shag her for a long time, that’s why I asked,” Ron reminded him.

“Watch it, Ron,” Harry scowled.

“Easy, Harry. There’s nothing wrong with you finding Hermione attractive or kissing her for that matter, if it was a mutual thing. Was it? Mutual, that is?”

“You mean, did she kiss me back?”

Ron nodded his head once again, flashing Harry the Weasley Grin.

Harry thought back on the kiss. It had begun as the softest of touches, then they both had increased the pressure, each tasting the other’s lips. When Hermione had opened her mouth under the assault of his, they had explored until they were breathless and wanting so much more.

“I suppose you could say she kissed me back.” Harry wasn’t going to admit, even to himself, how much he had wanted that kiss to continue on forever. “But it was just a freak occurrence. Like that windstorm. And it was over just as quickly.”

Ron cast a skeptical look in Harry’s direction.

“Really, Ron. It should have never happened and I can assure you, it will never happen again. Hermione’s friendship means more than any kiss ever could,” Harry finished with a little more conviction in his voice than before. As if he was trying to convince himself as well as Ron.

“Whatever you say, mate,” Ron glanced down at his watch. “I better run, though. I’ve got to get back to work because I’m meeting Lissa to pick out an engagement ring later.” A unconscious smile lit Ron’s face when he said her name.

Smiling back, Harry reached out and clapped Ron’s shoulder. “I really am happy for you, Ron.”

“Thanks,” Ron grinned mischievously and rose from the table. Backing away from the table a couple of steps, he joked, “Who knows, maybe you and Hermione will be the next couple announcing your engagement.” Ron retreated towards the restaurant door before Harry could respond.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the mere thought. Did he want that kind of relationship with Hermione? No, we’re just friends, he told himself firmly. That’s all we are and all we’re ever going to be.

People don’t usually get turned on kissing someone they are just friends with, taunted his little inner voice.

“Shut up!” he demanded.

“Excuse me, sir?” Steve, asked startled. He almost dropped the plates he was clearing from the table.

“Er, nothing, sorry.” Harry dropped more money on the table, distracted into forgetting that Ron had paid the bill when Hermione had left.

“Thanks, sir,” Steve said, grinning, as Harry rose. “You have a pleasant afternoon.”

“You, too,” he replied automatically. Now if only if I can stop thinking about shagging my best friend senseless, Harry thought as he left the restaurant.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Hermione sat staring blankly at the reports littering her desktop. Try as she might, she had been unable to concentrate on her work since she had returned from lunch with Ron and Harry.

Harry. Just the mere thought of his name sent both confusion and passion swimming through her mind. On her way back to work, she had decided to confront him about her feelings. Then she thought about his behavior at lunch, and knew that Harry was not ready to acknowledge what had transpired between them.

What had happened between them? Was it only a kiss? Hermione thought. Yeah, like Stonehenge was only a pile of rocks. That kiss had felt like sunshine and rain, a gentle spring breeze and a midsummer storm, fire and ice. To her, it had felt like everything. But what if it had it been nothing at all? What if it was just two consenting adults caught up in the moment rather than two souls finally finding what their hearts had been searching for?

Hermione threw her quill onto her desk in disgust, muttering a loud oath.

“Dr Granger, is there something I can do for you?” Her secretary, Sabrina, who had been walking by the open door, stuck her head around the corner cautiously. “It sounds like you’re having a problem in here.”

Smiling wryly at Sabrina, she motioned her into the office. Her secretary was an attractive young witch. A few years younger than her, she was tall and model thin with short brown hair cut in a flattering bob. She was also the most personable and efficient person Hermione had ever met. Motioning for her to take the chair across the desk from hers, she began apologetically, “I’ve been a little out of sorts this afternoon, haven’t I?”

“You could say that,” Sabrina replied. “I knew something was up when that new guy from the Magical Maladies Research department, Harry from New Zealand, ran out of your office like he was being chased by a herd of angry hippogriffs.” Sabrina smiled.

Hermione grimaced. “Am I being that difficult to get along with?” she asked.

“Well everyone knows that your new job comes with a lot of responsibility and stress attached.” Sabrina said diplomatically, trying to put her boss’s mind at ease.

“Oh, it’s not the job,” she assured her assistant.

“Then it must be man trouble,” Sabrina smiled knowingly. At Hermione’s nod of assent, Sabrina’s smile widened into a grin. “Anyone I know?”

“Harry,” Hermione replied dejectedly.

“The new guy from New Zealand?” her secretary asked, surprised.

“No,” her boss replied in exasperation, emphasizing the name, “ My Harry.”

“Harry?” she asked, cottoning on. “You’re best friend? That Harry?” Sabrina’s surprise turned into shock. “But I thought the two of you were just friends.”

“Well, so did I until he kissed me last night.”

Sabrina grinned, “Was it good?”

Hermione thought for a moment then decided on being honest with her friend. “Do you think I would be having this problem if it had been bad?” she sighed. “I almost wish it had been. Then we could have laughed it off and chalked it up to too much wine with dinner, although neither of us had that much. But at least that would have been an explanation I could live with.”

“And the one you can’t live with?”

“That I have romantic feelings for my best friend that I’d very much like to explore and see where it leads.”

“And what would said best friend’s reaction be to that kiss?”

“He thinks we shouldn’t risk our friendship over something that might not work out.”

Hermione sighed in resignation. “Maybe he’s right.” A troubled frown still furrowed her brow.

“Hermione,” Sabrina dropped her usual office formality. “There’s something more than just the kiss troubling you, isn’t there?”

Reaching in the bottom drawer to her desk, Hermione pulled out her purse, opened it and took out the old coin. The coldness of the coin immediately seeped into her fingers, causing her to lay it on the desk for Sabrina to study.

Picking it up, her friend turned it over in her hand, studying it intently. “Unusual coin, where did you get it?” she asked.

“From an old woman at the restaurant Harry and I dined at last night.” She frowned when Sabrina laid the coin on her palm, staring at it intently, but obviously unaffected by the cold metal.

“And this is troubling you, why?” Sabrina cast a quizzical look in Hermione’s direction. When Hermione failed to answer right away, Sabrina laughed, “It didn’t come with a curse attached, did it?” Looking up from the coin, she noticed that all of the color had blanched from Hermione’s face. “It did? Cool. Curses have always fascinated me.”

“Sorry,” Sabrina said at Hermione’s reproachful look. “Well, what exactly did the woman say?”

“The first thing she said was that she hadn’t seen two people as in love as Harry and I in a long time.”

Sabrina quirked an eyebrow and smiled.

Ignoring the knowing smirk on her friend‘s face, Hermione continued, ‘Then she handed me this coin, told me a witch by the name of Esmeralda had given it to her and repeated the warning. “If this coin is held by two who love, its warmth will all surround, but if lost before that love is known, only sorrow will abound.”

“Oooh, sounds ominous,” her friend grinned at her. “Come on Hermione, you can’t tell me you believe in ancient curses. Practical Hermione Granger lending credence to a curse? As if.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t” Her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her. “How can you hold the coin for so long?”

Sabrina gave her friend a look that said she thought Hermione was as daft as Hermione had thought the old woman to be the night before.

“Let’s see, I used my fingers to pick it up and put it in my hand,” she began with a trace of both bewilderment and sarcasm.

“No,” Hermione shook her head in exasperation. “I mean it’s so cold, how are you holding it for that long?”

“It isn’t cold,” Sabrina disagreed.

Taking the coin from her secretary’s hand, the chill immediately swept back up Hermione’s arm. She quickly dropped it back into the bottom of her purse. She closed the purse, trying to shut away the unease it caused her. One problem at a time, she thought.

“Forget the coin,” Hermione said.. “That’s not my problem, Harry is. What am I going to do about my feelings for him?”

“Well, you won’t give me details,” Sabrina began, looking slightly disappointed, “but that kiss must have curled your toes if your flustered state today is any indication.”

Hermione’s blush confirmed the truth of Sabrina’s statement. “My advice, for what it’s worth, go to him and tell him how you feel. Kiss him senseless if you have to, and even if you don’t, you should still kiss him senseless. Remember, it’s harder for him to protest if your tongue’s in his mouth.”

“Sabrina!” Hermione exclaimed in shock, but the smile that curved her lips belied her true feelings. “You better get back to work before your boss fires you for impertinence.”

Sabrina rose and walked to the door, pausing, “Good luck, boss.”

“Thanks. Knowing Harry Potter the way I do, I think I just might need it.”

After Sabrina had left the office, Hermione mentally chastised herself for neglecting her job and forced herself to focus, but she knew that was about as likely to happen as Hagrid being able to keep a secret. Before long, she gave up the effort, tidied her desk and told her secretary that she was leaving a little early. Sabrina’s knowing grin did nothing to improve her mood.

Heading back to her flat, she decided to confront Harry about her feelings. After all, what did she have to lose? Your best friend, her little voice whispered.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ron hurried along the busy London street. He was almost a half hour late meeting Lissa at the jeweler’s . His heart to heart with Harry had thrown the rest of his day so behind schedule that he’d had to work overtime to get a report finished that was due first thing the next morning. He hoped Lissa wouldn’t be too put out with him for being late. After all, they were picking out her engagement ring. The thought of his fiancee brought a smile to his face as it always did. He didn’t know what lucky star he had been walking under that night he ran across a sobbing Melissa in the park, but he thanked it every day for bringing her into his life. He’d truly believed he’d been in love with Hermione years ago, but after he had fallen for Lissa, he realized that he had never really known what love was.

He knew marrying a Muggle wasn’t going to be easy to explain to his parents. And he hadn’t made it any easier by omitting that fact in the owl he’d sent. All he’d told his parents was that he was bringing someone important with him to their Sunday family lunch. He knew his father would be happy for him, especially once he got to know Lissa. Arthur Weasley was known not only for his easy going nature, but also for his fascination with Muggles.

His mother, however, would be another story entirely. In the first place, she wouldn’t be happy that he had kept such a serious relationship secret from her in the first place, and in the second, finding out that he was engaged to a Muggle might send her into one of her screaming fits. Not that he thought his mother wouldn’t love Lissa as much as he did once she calmed down---but he knew she had always wanted him to bring a nice witch home for his wife. He also thought she still resented Hermione sometimes for breaking his heart, even though he had gotten over it a long time ago.

Lost in his thoughts of his family’s reaction to Lissa, he failed to see the woman herself until she launched herself into his arms, throwing her arms around his neck and clutching him tightly to her.

“Oh, Ron. I thought something awful had happened to you,” she said, a catch in her soft southern drawl. She buried her face in his shoulder, hugging him tightly.

“Hey, I’m okay. I just got held up at work.” He stroked her soft honey colored hair and rubbed her back soothingly. Pulling back from her, he lifted her chin with a finger until he could look into her eyes, full of relief. “I didn’t mean to worry you, sweetheart.” Placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, he wrapped his arms around her in a reassuring embrace.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing for acting like such a baby.” Lissa began, stepping back and taking both his hands in hers. “Since Mom died, I’ve realized just how alone I am. I do still have friends back in the States, but I haven’t let anyone get very close or care too much since Max broke it off with me almost two years ago.”

“Yeah, I can see where his running off with you best friend, Mia, would have made it a little hard for you to trust people.” Ron pulled her from the middle of the sidewalk over to a bench by the door of the jeweler’s shop. Sitting down, he pulled her down beside him.

Lissa lightly caressed his cheek, looking earnestly into his love filled blue eyes. “That’s why I knew we were meant to be from the beginning, because I trusted you from the moment I met you.”

Ron leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips with his. “Have I told you today how very much I love you?”

“No,” she smiled, “and that is quite remiss of you,” she said primly.

Grinning broadly, Ron replied, “Well, let me rectify that immediately. I love you, Melissa Sullivan. Now what do you say we go into that shop and we’ll pick out a ring to show the world how much.”

“Ron, I’ve already told you, I don’t need a ring to prove how much you love me. I don’t want you to spend a lot of money just to show the world you care. I know it and that’s all that matters. You told me yourself that your family wasn’t exactly wealthy while you were growing up but that you never lacked for love. I don’t care how much money we have or don’t have, I only need to know that you love me, and I’ll be the richest woman in the world.”

Cupping her face lightly in his hands, he replied, “I do love you, with all my heart.”

“Then I have everything I need.” Taking his hands again, Lissa pulled Ron to his feet. “Let’s go buy a nice, sensible ring.” Nodding his consent, he followed her into the shop.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The sun sank low into the evening sky, painting a muted purple-pink glow across the horizon. Where the night before a cold, dark wind had blown across the landscape, now only a gentle breeze stirred the remaining leaves on the trees. Hettie was afraid that wind bore dire portents for the young lovers she had meet the previous evening.

She sat on the stone bench surrounded by the beauty of her autumn garden, but the usual peace that flowed over her when she was in her favorite place alluded her tonight. Instead, she was left with a vague feeling of unease. She had no doubt that she had passed the coin on to its rightful new owner, but she was worried that the young woman would not heed its warning.

And heed it, she must, Hettie thought. To do otherwise would bring pain and sorrow into the young couple’s lives.

Fifty years ago, she had scoffed at Esmerelda’s dire warning, and it had almost cost her dear Hubert his life.

She hoped that the young woman would not be as stubborn as she had been and deny what was so obviously clear, that she and her young man were deeply in love. More than that, Hettie hoped she could convince her young man that he loved her too.

She hadn’t told the young woman all that the prophecy entailed or her responsibilities to that prophecy. It had only been after she, Hettie, had accepted them as truth 50 years ago that the beautiful young witch, Esmerelda, had come to her again to impart the rest of the responsibilities. Hettie only wished that she would get the same chance with the young woman she had met the night before.

Whether the prophecy or the warning was fulfilled now rested solely in the young woman’s hands and that of her true love. If they failed to heed the warning, they would suffer great heartache, like Hettie and her Hubert had before them. She prayed that the young woman would have the strength to make the right decision If not… her gnarled old hands drew her cardigan closer around her as she shivered at the thought.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Hermione stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her brown eyes, filled with worry, looked back at her. Gathering her mass of brown hair into her hands, she twisted it up onto her head, securing it with a clip. Not bad, she thought. At least it’s not frizzing and bushing out all over. She dabbed on a bare minimum of makeup and added a little blush to give her pale cheeks a little color. A touch of lipstick and she was finished.

Walking back into her bedroom, she picked up the carefully chosen dress she’d laid on her bed earlier. It was her favorite, soft red velvet with a scooped neckline and a figure flattering fit. Stepping into it, she zipped up the back, slipped her feet into her matching pair of heels and stood back to survey her appearance in her cheval mirror.

Will he think I look beautiful? Hermione wondered. It had thrilled her the night before when he had told her that she did. Suddenly, it was very important to her that he thought she was beautiful. Hermione didn’t kid herself that she was the most beautiful witch in the world, but neither did she think that she looked like that mountain troll she and the boys had taken on their first year, either.

Hermione looked over at her rocking chair where Crookshanks lay. "Do you think I'm crazy, Crookshanks, for thinking Harry could fall in love with me?"

He blinked up at her and purred loudly as if to ask how could anyone not love his mistress.

Smiling, she walked over to her bureau and picked up her bottle of perfume, a Christmas present from Harry. He always seemed to know just what to buy her. His presents were always perfect and appropriate, whereas Ron, even when they were dating, had never bought her anything that she liked.

Taking one last, critical look at herself, Hermione drew in a deep breath. It was now or never. If she and Harry were meant to have a romantic relationship, and she was becoming more convinced that they were, it was up to her to make it happen. Convincing him might not be easy, but she knew in her heart that it would be worth it.

"Wish me luck, Crookshanks." She smiled at her pet, gathered up her courage and left her flat, hoping to convince her best friend to give their love a chance.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Hermione stood at Harry's door, fear and apprehension battling with hope and love in a tug of war for her emotions. Gathering her courage, she knocked soundly on the portal.

After what seemed like forever, Harry opened the door, surprise etched on his face at finding her standing there.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"We need to talk."

"Yes, we do," he agreed, meeting her eyes for the first time that day. "I'm really sorry for the way I behaved at lunch today. I was a real prat."

"I agree, you were," Hermione's smile took some of the sting out of her words. "I know that the kiss we shared last night stirred up a lot of confusing emotions, but I think we owe it to ourselves to explore them and see where they lead." Stepping closer to him, she softly placed her hand on his cheek. Gazing up into his brilliant green eyes, she let him see all the hope that was shining back at him from her warm brown ones. She held her breath waiting for Harry's response.

As if drawn by an irresistible force, Harry lowered his face close to Hermione’s. His lips paused mere centimeters away from hers. Pushing away the voice that said this was wrong, he caught Hermione’s lips with his in a gentle caress. Like the night before, the electric shock that ran through his body at the touch of their mouths was immediate and breathtaking. Never before had kissing someone felt like this, felt so right. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, leaving not an inch of room between their bodies. Hermione threaded her arms around his neck, her fingers wrapping themselves into his dark hair at the base of his neck, pulling him closer to her, as if to keep him from breaking the kiss…as if that thought could ever cross his Hermione befuddled mind.

Some vague part of Harry’s mind told him there was something he should remember, but he shoved it away as he turned the gentle caresses that they had been trading into a deep, soul searing kiss. Removing the clip that had secured her hair, he threaded his fingers through the lush tresses, pulling her closer still.

When they finally broke apart due to lack of oxygen, he realized what he must have forgotten, they were standing in the doorway of his flat, snogging madly, putting on a show he was sure his neighbors wouldn’t soon forget. Across the way, he saw his pruned faced neighbor, old Mrs. Holloway, staring disapprovingly. Mr. Holloway came out of the door and pulled his wife back into their flat, winking approvingly at Harry as he did so. Glancing down at Hermione to make sure she had not seen the exchange, he found her staring up into his face in wonder. He gently took her arm and led her into his flat. The door had barely closed before she was back in his arms, kissing him passionately.

Coherent thought fled. All that filled his mind was Hermione and the way it felt to hold her in his arms. Tangling his fingers back into her hair that now cascaded over her shoulders, Harry pulled her even closer, although it didn’t seem physically Impossible

Both of them were so wrapped up in the other that neither of them heard the woman clear her throat loudly. Only when she raised her voice and asked, "Excuse me, Harry, but did you forget that I was here?" did Harry pull away, leaving a dazed and confused Hermione gasping for air and searching for explanations. The woman was standing by the couch, buttoning her blouse.

Harry took a deep breath, trying valiantly to still his racing pulse. He knew how this must look to Hermione and if the shocked expression on her face and the tears forming in the corner of her eyes were any indication, she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Although, given the circumstances, he couldn’t really fault her for it.

"Hermione, let me explain," he began, taking a step back towards her.

She shook her head mutely, tears clogging her throat, making speech impossible and backed away from him. She stared open mouth at across the woman standing there across the room. She was beautiful, petite, with long, dark hair which hung in ringlets down her back. She could see why Harry would have invited her to his flat; she was every wizard's dream come true. The tears were now coursing freely down Hermione's face, blurring her vision of the other woman and of Harry, who now advanced towards her again.

Almost as if he could sense her sudden desire to leave before embarrassing herself further, Harry grasped her elbow and pulled her closer, his other hand cupping her cheek.

She gasped, shaking her head from side to side wildly. "Don‘t touch me, Harry!"

Before he realized her intentions and could stop her, she had her wand out and had Disapparated, leaving his hands holding only thin air.

He looked over at the woman standing in the middle of his flat, a look of sympathy shining in her eyes. He knew that putting this right with Hermione would not be easy. In fact, he’d much rather face the Horntail he’d battled fourth year than face Hermione’s anger and tears.

But face her, he must… for the sake of their friendship if nothing else. Her friendship had been the one constant in his life…the one thing he knew he could not live without. That her kisses were quickly becoming as important, he wouldn’t acknowledge, even to himself.